“Okay, Harry, we can get this over with really fucking quick, just tell me what you know.”
“Fuck you Silver scum.”
I laugh. “Wrong answer.”
I hold my hand out to Ryker who places several paperclips in my palm. I begin to unbend them, straightening out the small rods of metal.
“What are you doing?” Harry stammers with wide eyes.
“Hand.”
“No!” Harry panics as Ryker grabs his tied hands and drags them forward, forcing the fingers out flat on one hand. “No!”
“Are you going to talk?”
He doesn’t answer.
I place one of the rods underneath the middle fingernail, pushing just a little, “Last chance.”
“Fuck you!” Harry growls.
I jerk forward, embedding the paperclip so far down beneath the fingernail I’m sure it’s touching his knuckle bone. Harry howls and I move to the next finger, doing the same thing on that one. Blood and tears mix together. I move to the next finger.
“Wait!” Harry cries, the third paperclip is already in position. I twist it a little, forcing it further down slowly, “wait!”
“Talk.”
“You don’t understand,” he pleads, “They’ll kill me.”
“You’re a dead man anyway, Harry, how you go, however, is entirely up to you.”
He frowns.
I sigh, “You see, I’m just going to keep hurting you Harry, the longer your mouth stays silent the longer it will go on. I’ll keep you alive but it’s going to be painful. Want to know what I’m going to do next?”
His eyes are wide, begging for mercy. I have no mercy for him.
“Next, I’m going to use this little thing right here,” I pick up the peeler from the floor. It’s rusted and dirty but the blade on it is sharp, “And I’m going to peel off your skin, starting at your feet until I get to your face. If you talk, tell me what I need to know, I’ll make it quick.”
“I have a wife,” he begs.
“And she’s going to be a widow regardless. Your choice Harry.”
“Okay,” he sobs, “okay.”
“There’s a good chap.” I nod, pulling out the paperclip still waiting to be embedded into his finger and throw it to the floor. “Now, why the fuck did Benjamin Lawson try to shoot Wren tonight?”
He swallows, “That bitch is a traitor.”
My fist is quick to connect to his jaw, “Don’t make me hurt you more, Harry.”
He spits blood onto the floor and glares at me, “she’s a Valentine and she’s fraternizing with you. It makes her a traitor.”
“How can the girl be a traitor when up until a few days ago she had no idea Marcus Valentine even existed.”
“It doesn’t matter. The moment she found out she should have put a bullet in your head.”
“Well she didn’t so I guess I win that one. Now answer the question, Benjamin Lawson raised that girl and now he wants her dead, why did Valentine order the hit?” I know he didn’t but I have to ask anyway, cover all my ground.